


it's snot funny

by fiddle_stix



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rated T for swearing, Secret Relationship, Sick Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, just markie taking care of his boyfie, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddle_stix/pseuds/fiddle_stix
Summary: “I’m not even that sick.”Mark doesn’t believe him for a second. “You can’t even stand up, Hyuc- no, no! That was definitely not a challenge, sit back down before you fall over, oh my god-”In which Donghyuck is sick, Mark can't figure out the difference between Panadol and Aspirin and they're very much in love.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 1
Kudos: 98





	it's snot funny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so we embark on another adventure! god, this has been in my drafts since last febuary so i'm throwing ALL caution to the wind and finally posting half of it (the other half should be up soon, which are some famous last words).
> 
> **for context:** this is officially a continuation of my twt au [love you silly](https://twitter.com/fiddlestyyx/status/1310485251920027648). it is not, however, required reading for this fic, it just is a bit more backstory shenanigans for these two. proceed as you wish!
> 
> otherwise let's dive into this overly-self indulgent fic featuring donghyuck being terribly dramatic while sick, the dreamies being cuties and johnny's very strong biceps. (the mark being #1 cutest boyfriend is implied)

An annoying buzz heaves Donghyuck out of the dredges of sleep. As soon as he becomes aware of the world he immediately wants to cease existence. Maybe he can just mold himself to these sheets. Or throw himself out a window. Anything to get the stabbing pain in his head to stop.

He fumbles around for his phone and manages to extract it from the bedsheets.

All of his limbs feel heavy in a gloomy sort of way. Like sandbags have been tied to his arms. He prays that he’s not sick. Donghyuck can’t afford to be sick again.

Blearily he spots Mark’s name displayed across the screen and clumsily clicks the ‘Accept’ button.

“Mo-rning.”

“Haechan-ah,” Donghyuck hears from the other end of the line. Mark sounds oddly relieved. “Did you just wake up?”

“Sure did. Was-sup, hyung?”

“Ooh calling me hyung, I think I like sleepy Haechan.” Even over the phone, Mark still manages to be a dumbass.

Smiling, as Donghyuck finds out, makes the pain in his head spike drastically. Okay then, no more of that. “Oh shush. Is there a reason you called?”

For a moment all he gets is silence, safe for the rumbling of the car’s engine he can hear on the other end. _Wait car?_

“Uh, so here’s the thing…” 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Donghyuck says, sitting up a straighter. It’s definitely too fast for his poor head, he finds out a second later, as all the blood in his body rushes to his head and spots dance in front of his eyes. It takes him a moment to realise that Mark is speaking to him again.

“–and we may have forgotten you at home.”

“You forgot about me?!” What is going on?

“Before you get mad, I promise that no one meant to do it on purpose. We each thought you were in the other car and we just– we were wrong.”

“Clearly.”

“I swear,” Mark says on the other line, as sincere as usual. “We didn’t mean to, Hyuckie.”

In all honesty, Donghyuck’s sleep addled brain isn’t totally on track with everything that’s gone down. But hey, they left him behind. They forgot him. “Wait, so where are you guys at? You said you were already in the car?”

“Yeah we are. We’re turning around to come back for you, though.”

“Hold up a second.” The cogs in Donghyuck’s brain are starting to click together. It does nothing to alleviate the throbbing pain in his head, but at least it's a start. “What time is it?”

“Uh…” There’s fumbling on the other line, then: “Nine forty five?”

“WHAT?”

How did he sleep through his alarm? Was he sicker than he thought? Why the hell can’t he get his head to stop hurting?

“Ah shit, how did that happen? I never sleep through my alarm.”

“Yeah, everyone is used to you waking up on time so we just assumed,” he hears Mark say. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I–uh–” Shit, when did his voice get so hoarse. “I’m fine.” He hopes that Mark doesn’t catch on, even though it’s kind of a futile wish.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause at the start of the year you said you were fine and then ended up more sick than I’d ever seen you be. You could barely get out of bed.” There’s a thinly veiled layer of hurt under Mark’s words, because they’d had a long chat afterwards about Donghyuck telling the truth about being sick.

Hopefully it doesn’t apply this time, right? Donghyuck is barely even sick. It’s nothing like last time.

“You worry too much,” Donghyuck settles for, because at least it’s not a blatant lie. “I ended up alright in the end.”

He knows Mark is aware that he’s avoiding the question, but he’s glad that he doesn’t push.

“You know, the others might be excusable,” Donghyuck tries instead. “Maybe not Johnny because he’s literally my roommate–”

Mark laughs. “I’m telling him you said that.”

“Please do, he deserves it. I’m not finished though, because I never expected my boyfriend to not care about finding me.” No mere headache is going to get in the way of Donghyuck teasing Mark.

“Yah, Hyuck. You’re lucky you’re not on speaker.”

Turns out laughing makes his head hurt too. He does it anyway. “I swear,” Donghyuck says, “we could kiss in front of them at this point and they still wouldn’t get it.”

“Well, I look forward to it. That’s next on our list to try.” All Donghyuck hears for a couple of moments is the hum of the car and a horn honking in the distance. “Truly though,” Mark says next, “I never meant to leave you behind. I thought the others had you. Our car is turning around now to come pick you up, we’re about fifteen minutes off.”

“Okay,” Donghyuck says without really meaning to. “I’ll meet you down there.” He has no real idea of how he’s going to accomplish that seeing as none of the muscles in his body seem to want to cooperate with him. But he’ll be there.

“I’ll let you go get ready,” he hears Mark say. “Don’t forget to grab something to eat.” They both know that Donghyuck will totally forget, but it’s nice of him to say either way.

“See ya, Mark.”

“I see you’re awake enough to drop the honorifics,” Mark huffs.

Donghyuck grins. “You know me too well.”

“Ain’t that the truth. See you soon, Hyuck.”

The call clicks off, leaving Donghyuck grinning stupidly at his phone. Agh, what has love turned him into?

Clearly not a functioning human, it seems, because it takes him three tries to pull himself out of bed. The first time he had flopped back hard against the sheets as his vision tunnelled rapidly. The second his legs were shaking too badly to hold him up.

If anything, he’s glad that the rest forgot him at home so they don’t have to witness his struggles. Doyoung fussing would reach record levels if he had.

By the time the car pulls up out front, Donghyuck has managed to pull himself into a semi-acceptable state. Both of his shoes are on the right feet, even if the laces may be a little haphazard. His hoodie, after some struggle, isn’t on back to front.

All in all, he’s done his best. Even with the ickiness that’s running through his veins.

And if he curls up on Mark’s shoulder the instant he gets into the car, everybody is kind enough not to say anything about it. Or maybe they just feel bad about leaving him behind.

* * *

It takes Donghyuck about half an hour to realise that he might just be fucked. It’s bad enough that he can barely look at his phone without alarm bells going off in his brain. Chenle’s aggressive, normally endearing, capslock hadn’t helped.

But it wasn’t until the room started teetering weirdly that he realised that something might just actually be wrong. Though admitting it aloud would prove Renjun right so he swears off doing that.

The sharp smell of hairspray had helped him shake off the last rementants of sleep, although it wasn't much help against the pounding in his head. He’d managed to sneak some painkillers from the medicine cabinet before he’d left that morning but his headache is proving too much of a beast to be squandered by a couple of little pills. Damn, why does he have to be so good at everything?

When his make up is finished, he looks up to see Mark already looking his way. He scrounges up a grin—one that he regrets instantly because it suddenly feels like his brain is being squeezed by a very buff, insanely muscled body builder. He hopes it doesn’t show, although his next words come out a little choked. “Like what you see?”

He doesn’t want to find out what his head would do if he tried to wink.

“Glad to see that you’re feeling well enough to joke around,” snorts Doyoung. _Buddy if you only knew the half of it,_ Donghyuck refrains from saying.

“Aw, were you worried about me, hyungie?”

If looks could kill, Donghyuck would already be six feet under. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Donghyuck says, because he’s a little shit and proud of it.

Somehow, he makes it through their filming for NCT Daily. They’re all split into teams to play a game that’s a strange mix between Shout in Silence and something Mark calls ‘Celebrity Heads’—honestly Donghyuck hadn’t paid much attention to the rules, more focused on trying not to trip over. The whole ‘world spinning’ thing got old after a while and did nothing to help his balance.

He’s not sure if the others can tell he’s a little out of it or are still trying to compensate for this morning, but he notices them helping him out here and there. Taeyong helps him fit headphones over his ears—the loud music helps Donghyuck’s head discover new levels of pain—and Jaehyun makes sure to give him little updates whenever Donghyuck feels lost.

At one point, Mark reaches out at one point to run the pad of his thumb over the back of Donghyuck’s neck. His cool fingers ease some of the tension built up there and it’s the nicest Donghyuck has felt all day.

Nearing the end of their filming Donghyuck somehow manages to stumble over absolutely nothing. 

Thankfully Johnny catches him before any real damage can be done and while the others poke fun at him, Johnny’s arm winds around his shoulders. He stays there all the way up until the end, by which time Donghyuck has discovered that keeping yourself steady is a million times easier when you have someone else to lean on.

He’s allowed a ten minute breather before he has to meet up with the Dreamies. Donghyuck decides to be very productive and lie face down on the couch for the whole time.

Well, he _had_ been face down until Taeil had come over with some make-up wipes and offered to help him clean it off.

“It’ll get ruined anyway while you’re sweating in dance practice.”

Donghyuck offers him a lopsided grin but doesn’t open his eyes. “Who says I get sweaty in dance practice? That’s yuck, hyung.”

He receives a swat to his shoulder. “If you’re not sweating then you’re not dancing hard enough, Haechan-ah,” Taeil teases.

“How come I never see you sweaty then, hyung?”

“I have ascended my bodily functions.” Donghyuck peeks open an eye to see Taeil laughing quietly. “Don’t worry, Haechanie, it comes with age.”

“Did you just call yourself old?”

While Donghyuck can’t seem to conjure up a smile without his brain threatening to split in half, Taeil seems to have no qualms about flashing him a wide grin. “What’s the point of being the oldest if you can’t use it to your advantage from time to time?”

Maybe Donghyuck is dancing a little too hard because he swears he could fill buckets with his sweat. The mental image that provides almost makes him gag, but the point still stands.

His t-shirt sticks to his back and his hair feels matted to his forehead. The strangest thing about it all is that he’s shivering. He thought it might have just been the shakes as the song had finished and they all stood huffing and puffing in their ending posts. Maybe just some lasting adrenaline?

But even as their instructor had called for a ten minute break and Donghyuck had flopped down on the floor, the strange feeling in his bones didn't disappear. His throat felt like hot sand. Wait, not hot sand. Sand paper. Damn it, even his wits were leaving him.

On one hand, he wanted to strip all the fabric from his skin and cool himself down against the floor. But at the same time, he suddenly and uncomfortably cold. Being wrapped in a blanket burrito all of a sudden became the best idea in the whole world.

Holy crap, nothing in his brain makes sense anymore.

Donghyuck drags a heavy arm over his eyes, shielding his eyes from the harsh practice room lights.

An unknown amount of time later he senses a moment near his head and cracks an eye open to see Jeno hovering over him, water bottle in hand.

“Having fun on the floor?”

Donghyuck huffs. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Jeno treats him with a smile in return. “Maybe I don’t, but what I do know is that you need to drink something.”

“Red bull?” Donghyuck asks hopefully.

“No, dumbass, _water._ You need to drink some water.”

Donghyuck’s gaze falls on the bottle in Jeno’s hand, the cool water promising to soothe a little of his aching throat. But when he reaches out and takes it from Jeno, his fingers decide it’s the perfect time to fail him. Or maybe it’s the bottle cap that hates him. Either way, he figures it’s useless after three ties and flops back onto the ground, resigned to his waterless fate.

Jeno doesn’t laugh at him, he’s too nice for that. Instead he crouches down next to Donghyuck’s head and starts unscrewing the cap of the water bottle. There’s something brewing at the corner of his mouth, a pinch of something there that Donghyuck recognises after a moment as concern.

Ah crap. He hates making them worry.

With the last of his strength, he heaves himself up into a seated position. The room spins so hard that he almost passes out. For a terrifyingly long moment he can’t hear anything. Can’t hear, can’t see, doesn’t even know if he breathes.

But then something cold against his palm jolts him back to awareness. Oh right. Jeno.

With hands that he begs not to shake—they don’t listen to him—he takes the water from Jeno, hoping against all hope that he didn’t see Donghyuck just momentarily fail at existing.

Neither of them say anything for a long moment as Donghyuck inhales as much water as his aching throat will allow. Just when Jeno is going to open his mouth, and probably say something cause otherwise he’d just be sitting there with his mouth open and looking stupid, their instructor calls out to them.

Standing up is a feat that Donghyuck almost doesn’t manage. His muscles protest every single step of the way. Damn them for inheriting his superb complaining skills.

Donghyuck has attended a lot of dance practices over the years. There’s the ones from back when he was a fresh trainee, just a tiny kid sporting a bad haircut and a bravado of confidence, desperate to prove his worth. Over the years that bravado has morphed into something steadier and tangible, desperation replaced with a determination to stay on the right path and pursue his dreams alongside his friends.

None of the dance practices he’s been to, old or young, have ever felt quite like this. It’s as if he’s holding on by nothing more than a single thread. He didn’t know it was possible to feel like he was underwater and on fire all at once but he manages it somehow.

Donghyuck barely makes it through the rest of practice and there’s a brief moment there, a painful and shame-filled moment, where he doesn’t think that he could go on any longer. 

But one look at the sweaty faces of his bandmates makes him snap out of it. He’s not that sick, he can pull through this, Donghyuck tells himself with a firmness that he usually reserves for only very serious matters.

It lasts him all the way up until the end of practice with Dream and then some, as he’s bustled down the hall to his next rehearsal. If Mark’s tight grip on his hand is some romantic gesture or a sigh of his worry, Donghyuck isn’t entirely sure. But he accepts it anyway as it’s a solid seventy-five percent of the reason he’s still upright. 

And then Taeyong starts up the music and _holy damn,_ Lee Donghyuck might just be royally fucked.

He makes it through the first but wobbles very dangerously when he slides into his next position. The bass finally kicks in fully and Donghyuck’s head reacts with his most excruciating pain yet. 

It’s right there in that moment, with a head pounding along to the rhythm of the bass, that Donghyuck decides he can’t deny it anymore. He is well and truly sick. 

Recognition, it seems, is exactly what his body had been waiting for it seems, because as soon as he admits it to himself, all the aches and pains he had been ignoring—the stuffiness in his nose, the full extent of his achy bones, the rawness in his throat—rises up to the surface and crashes over him in a forceful wave. 

Looking back at it all, Donghyuck really should have told someone about not feeling well. But hindsight is a fascinatingly beautiful thing and not something he had at the time.

He tetters for a second, arm reaching out for something, _anything_ to hold on to. Then his vision tunnels unforgivingly and there’s no light to grasp onto at the end of it because he’s crumbling and it’s too late. It’s too late for him. His knees shake and then give out underneath him and _shit_ , he must have gone and properly got himself really sick. 

A promise of reprieve from the pain echoes from within the darkness and Donghyuck’s achy body won’t deny it any longer. His eyes slip closed.

Donghyuck doesn’t hear the thud he makes against the ground because, well, he’s unconscious. 

* * *

When Donghyuck wakes up next, nothing has changed.

Well, he feels the exact same—like death warmed over—but this time there’s someone talking. Mark, his hazy brain identifies after a moment, is talking, or rather rambling. It would almost be cute if it wasn’t for the worry line in between his eyebrows. 

Afterall, he _did_ promise to tell Mark if he ever was going to get sick but in his defence, he hadn’t realised (or rather wanted to admit) he was sick until right before he’d found his way onto the floor.

Donghyuck’s head lets out a painful throb and crap, when did the practice room’s lights get so bright?

Mark’s little “I hate you” makes Donghyuck grin to himself. Because his actions speak louder than his words and being snuggled into Mark’s chest is much comfier than the floor. Donghyuck uses the last of his energy to mumble a fumbled sort of comeback.

“No, no, Haechan-ah don’t fall asleep on us.” 

A soft hand cups his chin (maybe Taeyong?) and it’s so cool against Donghyuck’s skin that he fears it might melt.

“Aish, he’s burning up.”

All Donghyuck can seem to muster up is a feeble sort of groan. He’s too sleepy for this. Mark’s chest is warm and solid and they should allow him to be so comfortable if they’re not going to let him sleep.

“I’m flattered, Hyuck,” the chest under him rumbles, a smile in their voice. “But we just want to make sure you’re okay. And then we’ll let you rest, promise.”

“I’m okay,” he manages to rasp out, just as he curls a hand into the front of Mark’s hoodie. “Just need a second to get back on my feet.”

Someone snorts from overhead but Donghyuck can’t place who. “Try a couple of days. You’re really sick, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” he grumbles.

“With that pout you’re pretty damn close.”

So they’ve decided to kick him while he’s down. His brain is currently too mush to think of anything to throw back in response. Instead he uses the hand still clutched in Mark’s hoodie to try and pull himself closer, even if his sore muscles protest at any movement. 

“I’m not–” the raspy feeling in his throat intensifies and he has to pause to let out a cough. “–‘m not hurt.” Which is only half true because his elbow is throbbing a little from where it must have hit the floor. But it’s true enough for now. “Didn’t hit m’ head. ‘M ju–s’ sick.” 

And look at him go, finally admitting it and everything. Although there wasn’t really much way he could hide it anymore.

He heard a smattering of noises above him, sighs of worry and exasperation, the second of which he probably deserved. His somewhat dramatic passing out probably hadn’t done much for everyone’s nerves. If he could get his brain to do more that grumble unintelligible sounds maybe that guilt would settle heavier across him. For now he’s got bigger things to worry about. Like how to burrow himself into Mark Lee’s bones and stay there forever, cocooned and warm and painless.

“‘M sorry, Mark.” The last syllables of his name ended up getting caught on Donghyuck’s tongue so it ended up a jumbled sort of sound. “Shoulda told ya be–before. ‘Cause I promised.”

The chest Donghyuck was leaning against stuttered then let out a slow breath as the arms around him tightened. “You did promise, you ass. But–” another deep breath. “It’s okay. As long as you’re going to be okay, it’ll all be fine.”

And with that, Donghyuck’s last remaining dredges of consciousness slipped away and he couldn’t quite keep his eyes open any longer.

When his eyes flutter open again, he’s in the back of a moving car.

The rocking doesn’t do much for his pounding head but he’s still cocooned in warmth and a hand that must be Mark’s is wrapped around his. Donghyuck knows because Mark’s wearing the ring that he got him for their first anniversary.

“Where we g-going?”

The hand wrapped around his squeezes. “Home.”

_At last,_ Donghyuck thinks and promptly falls right back asleep.

* * *

Mark takes in a deep breath and lets it out as slowly as he can. His lungs feel like he hasn’t breathed in years, _in decades._ It feels true, in part. Ever since he saw Donghyuck’s unmoving body played out on the floor, his lungs had given up on proper functioning.

_How in the world did they get here?_

Well, not here in the back of a car specifically. More rather, how did they get to a point where Mark is in the back of a car cradling a fever-plagued Donghyuck, who looks so incredibly small with his glassy eyes and reddened nose, while Taeyong sits in front of them with worry so poignantly clear in the set of his shoulders. Johnny, for once stock-still, beside Mark,

How did they all end up here? How did Donghyuck get so sick under their watch? How did Mark let it all happen?

He doesn’t have much longer to dwell on it because they’re pulling into their apartment’s parking lot. Their managers punches in their code and then they’re through. They’re home. Almost.

When they pull into their parking space, Johnny finally moves, glancing over at the two of them. “Do you–“ he pauses briefly, lip pulled between his teeth. “I’ll carry him up?”

“Oh, uh.” Mark willed his hands—which had tightened reflexively on Donghyuck—to relax. “I mean, I could…” He trailed off, gaze catching on Donghyuck’s face. Even in his sleep, he looked agitated.

“Mark,” Johnny said in his gentlest voice. “You’re shaking.” 

“Oh.”

For a moment neither of them moved, minus Mark’s visibly shaking hands (Johnny had been right). Then, still in that gentle voice, Johnny murmured, “come on then, let’s get him home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the second part of this fic will be entirely filled with donghyuck's lack of brain to mouth filter and mark trying his very best to take care of him while having little idea what he's doing. it's going to be so much fun and i cannot wait!
> 
> i hope you enjoyed these dorks and if you saw any mistakes, no you didn't <3
> 
> see you soon for the next edition of idiots in love! take care of yourselves and stay gold, lovelies~ 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/fiddlestyyx) | [tmblr](https://fiddle-styx.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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